Across This New Divide
by OTS
Summary: The angels are gunning for Lucifer and the demons are bringing Hell to earth. Dean and Sam, with the help of a gruff hunter, a renegade angel, and an unwilling prophet, must send the Devil back to the Pit, or die trying. Set after 4.22.
1. And the Rivers ran red

**Supernatural**

"**Across This New Divide"**

**Disclaimer: **Don't own Supernatural, or its characters.

**Side Note:** I **really** recommend listening to Linkin Park's "New Divide" while reading this fanfiction, (can be easily found on youtube), because that's what I listened to the entire time while writing the first chapter. Hence the story's title. Thanks!

**Chapter 1: And the Rivers ran red…**

_He could hear them talking – Sam and Lilith. Ruby was also there, yelling an unintelligible string of words. He had to stop them…_

…"_Sam!" He shouted, desperately pounding on the locked door. He spotted a discarded candle stand off to his right, picked it up, and began to ram it against the heavy metal…_

…"_You're too late…" Ruby's eyes gleamed with excitement and triumph. _

"_I don't care." In a smooth, precise motion, Dean shoved the knife into Ruby's stomach, watching in twisted pleasure as her life flickered, quite literally, before his eyes…._

…_Sam's eyes sought out Dean's, the hazel orbs brimming with regret and anguish. _

"_I'm sorry…" he half-whispered._

_The older Winchester was too stunned to speak. His little brother – his Sammy – had broken the final seal... _

…_Lucifer was free to rise._

---

Dean shook himself out of his reverie and shoved his hands into his pockets. He still considered it nothing short of a miracle that he and Sam had escaped from the Convent in Ilchester with nothing more than a few bumps and bruises. Of course, Dean hadn't planned on waiting around for the freakin' Devil to rear his ugly head, so he figured that the fact they were still alive was due in part to his quick thinking. And possibly his fight or flight response, which, at the time, had been telling him to '_fly the Hell out of there_.' He glanced over at Sam, who was staring off into space, feet propped up on the miniature table next the couch, arms crossed. They still hadn't completely made amends with each other – it would be a while before that could happen. But despite everything that he had done; despite the demon blood and all the fighting, Sam was still Dean's little brother, and deep down, Dean still trusted him. With the Apocalypse now upon them and with Lucifer roaming the Earth, it was vital that he trusted Sam. Because in a war where even some of the the angels were corrupt, Dean needed someone he knew he could always rely on. Sammy might have flown the coop the moment he began drinking demon blood, but _Sam_ was, and would always be, right there with him.

"They never wanted to stop any of this," Dean announced tiredly, leaning against the motel room's wall. "They had a plan from day one, and none of it involved saving any Seals." Sam's brow furrowed, and he turned to face his older brother.

"What?"

"The angels," he clarified. "They _wanted_ to bring on the Apocalypse. It was their plan from the beginning." Sam's mouth dropped open slightly.

"But… why? What do they stand to gain by letting all the Seals break?" Dean snorted and shoved his hands into his pockets.

"They seem to think that by lettin' loose the Big Man Downstairs, they'll get the chance to gank him for good. And if they win, it'll be Paradise on Earth, and everything will be rainbows, bunnies, and unicorns."

"And if they don't win?" Sam challenged.

"They're pretty sure that they're going to win."

"That's bull," Sam said shaking his head and lowering his feet from the table. "Like a couple of bigwig angels are going to be able kill _Lucifer_, his demon army notwithstanding."

"What I was thinkin'," Dean agreed, nodding. Sam shook his head in disgust.

"What about the all the people? The demons aren't going to stand idly by as their Boss creates Hell on Earth. A lot of good people are going to die." Dean glanced away, but didn't contradict Sam's statement. "This is… so messed up," the younger Winchester said, glaring at the opposite wall. "We have to do _something_, Dean. We can't just sit around and watch this happen." Dean heaved a sigh, pushed off of the wall, and slid down onto the couch next to his brother.

"Hey, I'm with you a hundred percent, man, but I got no idea what to do, much less how to start." Sam shot a sideways glance at Dean.

"Cas?" he suggested. Sam wasn't exactly sure how he felt about Castiel – it seemed that he'd done more harm than good – but since he was an _angel_, Sam figured that he had to at least be somewhat prepared for this sort of thing.

"MIA, ever since the archangel's appearance over at Chuck's," Dean answered flatly. It had been a few days since the breaking of the final Seal, and since then, he'd tried to contact the trench coat-clad angel several times. But either Castiel was ignoring him or he'd gotten the whip from his superiors again. The latter was more than a little worrisome.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, each lost in thought.

"What about Bobby?" Sam asked. Having already apologized profusely to a bemused Bobby over the phone for hitting him with the butt of his shotgun, Sam didn't mind asking the elder hunter for help. "Maybe he knows something we don't."

"I think Bobby knows a lot of things that we don't," Dean answered. "But this? I'm not so sure. I'm bettin' that he doesn't know much more than we do at this point." Sam rubbed a hand over his face and shrugged.

"Still, doesn't hurt to ask, does it? How about we just pay him a visit, and if he doesn't know anything, then he doesn't know anything. But it beats sitting in this crappy motel." Dean reached across the table and grabbed the beer he'd set there earlier, taking a sip before answering.

"It's about a day's drive to South Dakota," he pointed out. Sam frowned.

"You have something better to do?" Dean shook his head and leaned back against the couch.

"Fine," he said, waving his hand airily, "let's go ask Bobby."

---

"You really expect _me_ to know how to kill the damn _Devil_?" Bobby asked incredulously. Dean glowered at Sam over his shoulder.

"Told you," he muttered. Bobby shook his head and led the brothers into his sitting room, plopping down on the couch.

"You boys give me too much credit if you think I'm _that_ smart." Sam steadfastly ignored Dean's jibe, instead focusing his attention on the elder hunter.

"Bobby, you sure there isn't something, _anything_, in one of your books?" Bobby frowned.

"Yeah, sure, let me grab my _Field Guide to the Apocalypse_ and get back to you on that," he said sarcastically, causing Dean to shoot a smug grin at his younger brother.

"Bobby, this is serious," Sam said, countering Dean's grin with glare. Bobby crossed his arms.

"I know that, boy," he said sharply. "Trust me; I've made my share of calls already, but those that actually believe half of what I told 'em don't have any more of an idea of what to do than me. What about the angels?" Dean shook his head.

"Uh uh, no way. The angels have been doin' a pretty piss poor job so far. Can't expect them to start rising to the occasion now." Bobby stared at him, his eyes narrowing.

"What about your angel? Castiel? Thought you said he'd started helping you guys." But once again, Dean shook his head, He turned to face the window, noting absently that it had begun to drizzle. The evening sky was beginning to grow darker with the coming clouds.

"Okay, first of all, he's not _my _angel, he's _an_ angel. And I already told Sam that he's been gone since the day we booked it outta' the Convent."

"And you really don't have any ideas as to where he could be?" Dean stared out the window, blinking when lightning suddenly flashed, and thunder rumbled loudly.

"No," he replied finally. "None."

---

The figure appeared out of thin air and staggered to the left, before quickly righting himself. The rain, that had seconds ago been a drizzle, began to cascade down upon the solitary figure, soaking him thoroughly in a matter of seconds. Blood seeped from numerous slashes in his tan trench coat, commingling with the miniature rivers of water rushing down the street, causing them to gradually turn red. The figure continued forward, however, and if he was aware of his wounds, he gave no outward sign, save for the stiff manner in which he walked. Lightning crackled overhead; a burst of white fire across the starlit sky. In that split second, the shadows of an enormous pair of tattered wings flickered over the grey cement. The figure ignored this and continued to walk, his shoes scuffing quietly on the pavement. A streetlight exploded in a shower of sparks as he passed under it. He took no notice, but rather, pushed on stubbornly, his mouth set in a hard line, sapphire blue eyes squinted against the sheets of rain. After what seemed like ages, a house came into view; the windows were boarded up and broken cars lay discarded on the grass, giving off an air of abandonment. The figure paused just shy of the front door and glanced up, his eyes fluttering closed. Lighting flew across the sky, once again illuminating the area, casting the shadows of a pair of wings over the house. A moment later, the figure opened his eyes and brought up his arm hesitantly, then quickly knocked on the front door. He winced slightly at the movement, but other than clenching his jaw, remained still. His sharp hearing picked up muted voices from behind the door – voices that seemed to be arguing with each other.

"_No, I don't know who it is. Can't see out the window – it's raining too freakin' hard." _

"_You didn't even _look_, Dean!" _

"_Shut up, Sam."_ A gruff voice sounded over the din of the fighting;

"_Quit your jabberin', ya' idjits, and move out of the way – I need to get to the door, 'cause _someone _has to answer it." _The door swung open abruptly, and the warm light from Bobby Singer's house enveloped the entryway and spread out across the porch.

"Dean…" the figure said quietly, his blue eyes locking with Dean Winchester's shocked green ones.

"_Cas_?"

* * *

**A/N**: Mkay, so yeah… that was the first chapter. I'd love to hear what you think! This is the first time I've written a full-scale Supernatural fanfiction. If I get enough reviews, the next chapter will be up shortly. *wink* *wink* *nudge* *nudge*


	2. The Road to Nowhere

**Chapter 2: The Road to Nowhere**

_"The wreckage of my past keeps haunting me__  
__It just won't leave me alone_  
_I still find it all a mystery_  
_Could it be a dream? _  
_The road to nowhere leads to me..."_

_~Ozzy Osbourne_

Out of all the people Dean had been expecting to come to the door, (a hunter, one of Bobby's long-lost friends – Hell, even a _demon_), Castiel was the one he'd least expected to see, disregarding the fact that Bobby had mentioned him mere hours ago. The angel in question looked as if he'd been dunked in a lake and hauled back out several times. His hair hung in wet strands on his face, and water dripped from nearly every available surface of his body. While the numerous scratches on his person had finally ceased bleeding, they still stood out against the angel's pale face. Castiel's sapphire blue eyes passed over Bobby and locked with Dean's.

"Dean…" he said quietly.

"_Cas_?" Dean's brow furrowed in confusion, and he ignored the sound of footsteps behind him.

"Dean, who—" Sam broke off in mid-sentence as he came to a stop beside his brother, his eyes widening slightly when he spotted the angel.

"Cas?" Sam said, bewilderment evident in his tone. Castiel shifted his stare towards the younger Winchester, his expression unreadable.

"'M gonna' grab a beer," Bobby muttered, edging away from the door and skirting into his kitchen.

"Where the Hell have you been?" Dean demanded, automatically taking a step forward. "I've asked for your help a dozen times over the past few days, and you choose to show up _now_?" Castiel's gaze lingered on Sam for a moment, and in that brief time, he thought he caught a glimpse of pity in the angel's eyes.

"I've been busy," Castiel replied, turning his head back to face Dean. The older Winchester raised his eyebrows.

"With _what_?"

"Running, mostly," the angel stated, stepping stiffly inside of the house and surreptitiously closing the door behind him. "From my superiors," he added, when Dean's confusion deepened. Dean shook his head.

"This got something to do with the archangel at Chuck's house? 'Cause Sam and I called him two days ago, and he said everything was fine," Dean said. "That the archangel had left his house mostly intact and hadn't bothered with him. But he failed to mention what happened to you." This last sentence was punctuated with a pointed glance at Castiel, who stood still, expressionless as ever. Dean rolled his eyes at the angel's lack of ability to take hints. "I seem to recall you saying that you were going to '_hold them all off_,'" the older Winchester continued, shoving his hands in his pockets. Castiel blinked and shifted his weight, leaning slightly to the right.

"A mistake on my part," he answered. "I believed that I'd be able to hold them off long enough for you to stop Sam." He paused. "I was wrong. Had it not been for quick thinking on Chuck's part, I would not be standing here before you now." Dean caught Sam's eye, and the younger Winchester shrugged.

"Chuck saved your life?" Sam asked, raising his eyebrows. Castiel nodded, causing Dean to laugh.

"You sure we're talkin' about the same person here, Cas?" The angel nodded again, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"_Chuck_," Dean stated. "As in 'Prophet of the Lord, I-can't-brave-my-way-out-of-a-paper-bag' Chuck?" Sam cracked a smile at that, then quickly tried to hide it.

"You give him far too little credit," Castiel said, giving Dean a reproachful look. "He is a good man."

"Okay, sure, but what exactly did he _do_? Somehow, I can't see him goin' toe-to-toe with one of Heaven's fiercest."

"I was prepared to fight," Castiel answered, "but Chuck ordered me to run." Dean snorted.

"You've pretty much gone renegade now, and you still can't stop following orders, can you Cas?" Castiel lowered his gaze, causing Dean to feel a slight twinge of guilt.

"I fled," the angel continued after a moment, "and Chuck remained behind." Sam's brow furrowed.

"So, what, you just _left_ him there?" The younger Winchester asked, a note of disbelief seeping into his tone.

"Chuck was, and nor will he ever be, in any danger from an archangel," Castiel said firmly. Dean shook his head and leaned against the wall of Bobby's house.

"Whatever. Chuck's safe, you're here mostly in one piece, and I guess that's what matters. What I want to know now is what our game plan is." Castiel stared at him blankly.

"Game plan…?" Sam stepped in as Dean opened his mouth to retort.

"What he means is that he wants to know what our plan of action is. We need to know where Lucifer and his demons are, and more importantly, how to stop them." Castiel opened his mouth, then closed it.

"I don't know," he said softly. Dean pushed off from the wall and stood up straight.

"What do you mean, you don't know?" He demanded.

"I don't know where Lucifer and his demons are, or how to stop them." The older Winchester's mouth dropped open slightly.

"Cas, you're a freakin' _angel_! How can you _not_ know what to do? What did you do the whole however-many-thousands of years you've been up in Heaven? Sit on a cloud a play the harp?" Castiel met Dean's angry gaze with a defiant expression.

"Being an angel of the Lord does not automatically entitle me to infinite wisdom and omniscience."

"Tune in to angel radio, then!" Dean exclaimed. "Figure out what the higher-ups are saying. You can at least do _that_ much, can't you?" Castiel broke eye contact with him at this comment, which caused a cold weight to settle in the pit of Dean's stomach. Sam nudged his older brother with his elbow.

"I don't think he can, Dean," he said quietly. Dean shot him a glare.

"Yeah, I got that, Sam." He glanced back at the angel, who was staring determinedly at the ground. "Why?" He asked, trying to keep the frustration out of his tone. Lucifer was out there doing God-knows-what while they were stuck standing around and talking in circles.

"I've been cut off," Castiel said, looking nothing short of miserable. "From Heaven, and from receiving orders and information through my superiors." He looked up at Dean. "I can only guess that Zachariah gave word of my betrayal." The older Winchester frowned.

"It wasn't a betrayal, Cas. You were trying to stop _Lucifer_ from rising." Castiel inclined his head as if to say, _that's precisely the point_. Dean snorted. "Only the senior dickheads in Heaven would think that's actually a _bad_ idea."

"So, where does that leave us?" Sam asked. It was probably a measure of how screwed they were that no one answered, Dean thought to himself.

"Well, this is just wonderful," he said sarcastically. "We've got a malfunctioned angel, Lucifer is most likely scrambling his army as we speak, and we don't even have a plan."

"Well, I can't exactly do anything about the malfunctioning angel," a gruff voice sounded from behind them, "but I might be able to help work out a plan. And I've got some beer," Bobby added, walking out of his kitchen, indicating the beer bottles held in his hands. "Want some?"

* * *

**A/N: **Well, first of all, I would like to thank all of those who have reviewed so far. You guys totally made my day, and thanks to you, I was able to shovel this out faster than I had anticipated. I have to say, however, that it's going to be a little bit before I can get chapter three out, mostly because it's longer and more action-packed. This was just a transition chapter. Anyways, **please read and review**! More reviews will definitely help me work harder and faster.


	3. Glass Half Empty

**Chapter 3: Glass Half Empty**

_"Stands the glass half empty,  
Or stands the glass half full?  
Hand me the decanter, man,  
I'll take another pull."_

_~Felix Dennis_

Dean accepted the beer from Bobby with a mumbled word of thanks, then shuffled into the elder hunter's sitting room and plopped down on the couch. Sam also grabbed a beer and followed his lead, sitting next to his brother, while Bobby slid into the chair opposite them. Castiel chose to remain standing. Dean rubbed a hand over his face before twisting open his beer.

"So we literally have _nothing_ to go off of right now," he stated tiredly.

"Well, I wouldn't exactly say _nothin_'," Bobby corrected, causing Dean to raise his eyebrows.

"You got somethin'?" Bobby shrugged.

"Depends on your definition of 'something'." Dean took a sip of his beer, then grimaced at the taste.

"At this point, I'm pretty much open to hearing anything," he replied, and Sam nodded his agreement.

"Well, I been thinkin', and this is purely a _guess_, but… I think Lucifer is goin' to have to find a particular vessel if he wants to go parading around as somethin' other than a ball of light. See, demons can posses anyone they want 'cause they were once human. But angels," Bobby inclined his head towards Castiel, "you guys are a different story, am I right?" Castiel nodded.

"We must find vessels durable enough to contain our grace for great periods of time without being destroyed."

"And since Lucifer was an angel," Bobby continued, "I'd hazard a guess that he has to do the exact same thing, which gives you boys some time to prepare."

"How long?" Dean asked, turning to Castiel.

"A day," the angel answered after a moment, "maybe two. Finding a vessel that meets our requirements is difficult, but with Lucifer's resources, it shouldn't take him too long." Sam shook his head.

"But Lucifer is a Hell of a lot more powerful than most of you guys, so I'm guessing that the number of possible vessels is narrowed down to a _very_ select few." Dean's mouth opened slightly in realization.

"And if we can find out which vessel he's gonna' shoot for—"

"—then we can warn that person before he gets the chance to posses him," Sam finished. "The only question is, how do we find out?" Both brothers exchanged glances.

"Chuck," Dean and Sam said in unison.

"I would advise against that," Castiel said, breaking the short silence with his somber tone. Dean frowned as he turned to face the angel.

"Why?" He asked suspiciously. Castiel's piercing blue stare caused Dean to feel slightly uncomfortable.

"By now, the archangel that protects the prophet will be on high alert. It would be dangerous for you and Sam to attempt to visit him. And by deliberately interfering with the prophecy—"

"You mean like you did?" Dean interrupted, causing Castiel to clamp his mouth shut and look faintly ashamed.

"Honestly, what other choice do we have?" Sam asked the angel. "We can either take our chances with the archangel—and probably get screwed over anyways— or we can just sit around and wait to get screwed over by Lucifer and his demons." Dean jerked his head around to face his brother, frowning.

"Okay, Mr. Morbid. How about we don't get screwed by _either_ of them, talk to Chuck, and then figure out a way to send the Big Bad Wolf back to Hell." Sam raised his eyebrows.

"Did you seriously just make a _Little Red Riding Hood_ analogy?"

"Uh huh," Dean answered, a grin on his face. "Which means that I get to be the woodsman that chops him up." He paused to think for a moment. "You can be the granny." Sam clenched his jaw.

"_Dean_…" he started, glaring at his older brother.

"A _grumpy_ granny."

"Would you _focus_?" Sam snapped, miraculously resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "Look, I'm just trying to be realistic, here."

"So what, you don't think we can do this?"

"I'm just saying that the odds aren't exactly in our favor," Sam answered, causing Dean to laugh.

"Sam, we're _Winchesters_. The odds are _never_ in our favor." Bobby snorted at that comment.

"Truer words were never spoken," he muttered.

"But you know what?" Dean continued, ignoring the elder hunter's comment. "That's when we work best." He looked over at Castiel, who had been watching the exchange silently. "We're gonna' talk to Chuck," Dean said firmly. "No ifs, ands, or buts about it." The angel inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment.

"Very well. But be careful," Castiel warned. "The archangel will be ready to attack at a moment's notice."

"I'll try not to threaten Chuck too much, then," Dean replied, grinning. Castiel's eyes narrowed, and he frowned disapprovingly. The older Winchester raised his hands in a placating gesture.

"Dude, it's a joke. Lighten up a little."

"Lucifer has risen, and the end of the world is nigh," Castiel replied. "I don't have the time to… lighten up." Dean huffed in annoyance.

"Of course not. You're Castiel, the angel of 'no fun at all.'" The angel stared at him blankly. "So," Dean continued, setting his beer down on the table, "we have our plan."

"Mind tellin' me what that is?" Bobby asked, crossing his arms. Dean nodded.

"Sam and I are going to head over to Chuck's, figure out who and where Lucifer's vessel is, then scoot on out to find him. Or her," he added as an afterthought.

"You realize that there's a gaping hole in that five-star plan of yours," Bobby pointed out, causing Dean to scowl.

"Okay, so the finer details are a little vague, but we can figure them out as we go along." Sam rolled his eyes.

"That's the Winchester way," he sighed. "Act first, think later." Dean chuckled.

"Damn straight, Skippy!" The younger Winchester smirked and shook his head, taking a sip from his beer. Castiel straightened up and was in the process of turning around, when Dean called out;

"Where do you think you're goin', Cas?" The angel stopped and turned back towards Dean.

"I'm going to try and gather information on how to stop Lucifer," he answered. "There are some angels who are still sympathetic toward humans, and will not mind talking to a… traitor." Castiel grimaced almost imperceptibly at the word. "I'll start by asking them." Dean and Sam exchanged glances.

"Okay," Dean answered. He paused, then added, "you be careful too, though, alright? We can't afford to lose our very own guardian angel now." And though he was grinning, his eyes were serious. Castiel nodded.

"I'll do my best," he answered, then a split second later, there was a familiar flutter of wing beats, and the angel was gone. After a moment, Dean turned to face Bobby.

"I know you said there was nothing about how to kill Lucifer in any of your books, but do you think you go through some of them and see if you can find anything about him in general? I have a feeling we're going to need to know as much as we can." Bobby nodded, and said;

"Yeah, I can do that." Dean stood up and motioned for Sam to do the same.

"Good. Call us when you got somethin'." Bobby looked up at them as they walked by.

"You two chuckleheads be careful, you hear? And good luck." The two brothers nodded their thanks before leaving.

---

Dean and Sam were halfway to Ohio – and Dean was feeling decently confident now that they _finally _had a plan – when his phone rang. He snatched it out of his pocket and glanced at the caller ID, which turned out to be extraordinarily unhelpful, owing to the fact that it read "restricted." Normally, he would've shoved the phone back in his pocket, let it go straight to voicemail, and listen to it later if he remembered. However, his gut instinct was telling him to answer it, so he flipped open the top, and said;

"Hello?" What he heard next surprised him.

"_Dean? It's Chuck_." Dean narrowed his eyes and glanced over at Sam, who was looking inquisitively at him. _It's Chuck_, he mouthed, and Sam nodded.

"Chuck!" Dean exclaimed with false cheerfulness. "How'd you get my number?"

"_Uh, prophet, remember_? _But never mind that_," Chuck continued before Dean could fire back a retort. "_I could really use your help." _

"Well, that's convenient," Dean replied, "because we we're just on our way over."

"_Do you think you could hurry up?_" Chuck asked, and for the first time, the older Winchester noticed how worried the guy sounded.

"Why? What's wrong?" Sam glanced at him, and Dean shrugged.

"_I think that there might possibly be demons standing outside my house._" Dean's heart skipped a beat.

"You sure?"

"_I'm pretty sure… hang on a sec._" Rustling noises sounded on the other line. "_Yeah, okay, those are demons. They have black eyes._" Dean could detect the panic in Chuck's tone.

"Chuck, you have an archangel watchin' your back, remember?" The older Winchester pointed out. "I think you're pretty much covered."

"_I don't think so, Dean, otherwise it would've killed them by now, because they're on my lawn, and… yep, okay, they're breaking in. I'm screwed._" Dean clenched his jaw as he heard the sound of breaking glass.

"Okay, calm down, and listen to me: lock yourself inside your bathroom and don't come out 'till we get there. You know what a Devil's trap is?"

"_Y-yeah, I think so._"

"Good. Find something to write with and draw one right outside the bathroom. It doesn't have to be perfect, just hurry."

Silence. Dean pressed his foot down on the gas pedal, and the speedometer cranked up to seventy.

"Chuck! You still with me?"

"_Yeah, I'm here. Found some old lipstick on the floor that belonged to – long story, never mind. I'm drawing it right now._" Dean exhaled in relief.

"Okay, we'll get there as fast as we can." He hung up and tossed his phone in the back seat. Sam looked at him, his expression worried.

"Are we going to make it?" He asked. The older Winchester shot him a sideways glance, his foot pushing down harder on the pedal, and answered stiffly;

"We have to."

* * *

**A/N: **Okay, so I decided to split this chapter in half for two reasons: 1) The whole chapter was looking to be about seven pages long, which is, in my opinion, a little bit of an eye-killer, and 2) That way, you guys could have part of the chapter earlier, instead of the whole chapter later. Anyways, **please read and review**! I would also like to thank all of my reviewers for reviewing the last chapter – I really and totally appreciate it! (And see? Since so many of you reviewed, I got this chapter out faster! There _is_ a correlation!)


	4. For Where we are is Hell

**Chapter 4: For Where we are is Hell**

The moment the Impala rumbled up onto Chuck's driveway, Sam was out of the car, and was already hurriedly jiggling the doorknob by the time Dean followed suit. Sam turned back to his brother.

"It's locked." Dean rapidly scanned the house.

"Window," he said, pointing towards the broken glass. Sam nodded, then quickly walked over and slid through the opening, taking care not to cut himself on the jagged glass. He landed as quietly as he could and turned to face Dean, who was gingerly slipping through the window.

"Got the knife?" The younger Winchester whispered. Dean pulled the late-Ruby's knife from his belt and gave a curt nod of his head. His eyes then widened in alarm at approximately the same time Sam heard rushed footsteps coming from behind him.

"_Sam_!" Dean called out, and the younger Winchester whirled around and ducked just as a balding man with black eyes swung a fist at his head. Sam kicked out at the man's chest, sending him stumbling back a few steps. Then, acting purely off instinct – without thinking – he raised his arm, feeling the power coursing through his body. The demon jerked to a halt, his hands scrabbling at his throat. Seconds later, black smoke began to pour from his mouth. Sam narrowed his eyes and lowered his arm. The black smoke swirled on the ground before sinking into the floor, leaving behind a blackened circle on the floorboards, and the faint smell of sulfur. He turned to face Dean, who was staring at him slightly-opened mouthed.

"We're going to talk about this later," the older Winchester said crossly, pointing at him. Sam didn't bother to disagree, and started to carefully search the room.

"You check upstairs," he said. Dean nodded and quickly jogged up the steps, holding his knife at the ready.

"Chuck?" Dean called out quietly once he reached the top of the stairs. "You there?" He crept down the hall, his back pressed firmly against the wall. Silence greeted him. "That's always comforting," he muttered to himself. He scanned the rooms off to the left and right, and upon seeing nothing, relaxed slightly. Then he noticed the bathroom directly at the end of the hall – the door was slightly ajar; the wood splintered in some places. There was a large pink splotch on the floor near the entrance to the bathroom, as if someone had spilled some paint, and hadn't bothered to clean it up. "Hello?" Dean tried again, tightening his hold on the knife.

"Dean?" The older Winchester spun around, knife held out defensively in front of him. "Whoa, hey, it's me!" Chuck said, raising his hands in the air. Dean lowered the knife.

"_Chuck_?" Where'd you come from?"

"The, uh, closet in my bedroom," Chuck answered, wringing his hands together nervously. "I was hiding in there." Dean frowned.

"Thought I told you to lock yourself in the bathroom."

"I did, but the demons started breaking through the door," Chuck replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

"What happened to the Devil's trap?" The prophet's brow furrowed.

"It's right there," he said, pointing to the pink splotch that Dean had taken to be spilled paint. He walked closer to it, raising his eyebrows.

"That is _not_ a Devil's trap."

"Really?" Chuck asked. "Well, that explains why it didn't work." Dean bit back a retort and motioned for Chuck to follow him.

"So, the archangel was a no-show then, huh?" The older Winchester asked, walking cautiously down the stairs.

"Not exactly," Chuck answered as they reached the bottom step.

"What do you mean, _not exactly_?" Dean asked, turning to face him. The prophet shrugged.

"A few minutes after I called you, the house started shaking and it got really bright, but that only lasted a few seconds." He paused. "I think it scared most of the demons off. Anyway, after that, I ran and hid in the closet, then you showed up." Dean frowned.

"Huh… that can't be good."

"What can't be good?" Sam asked, appearing from Chuck's kitchen. Dean stuck the knife back in his belt.

"You find anything?" He asked. Sam shook his head.

"Other than that one demon, no – nothing. What can't be good?" The younger Winchester repeated. Chuck stood up and walked towards the front window, peeking through the blinds. Both brothers ignored him.

"Well apparently, Chuck's guardian angel only popped in for all of five seconds before disappearing again."

"What does that mean?" Sam asked, confusion evident in his tone. Dean shrugged.

You figure that out, college-boy, you let me know," he answered, smirking slightly. Sam rolled his eyes at the use of his old nickname.

"Uh… guys?" Chuck said nervously, pointing out the window. "You might want to come take a look at this." Sam and Dean exchanged glances, then walked up to the window. Dean's eyes widened, and he had to work his jaw to stop it from dropping. Outside, the entire sky had turned a deep, blood-red color, and the sun glinted faintly, barely visible behind the mass of black clouds that were building up on the horizon.

"What the Hell?" Dean half-whispered, not taking his eyes off of the scene. "I'm guessin' that's not normal."

"You think?" Sam replied sarcastically.

"C'mon," Dean said, straightening up. He walked briskly towards the front door, yanked it open, and was met with a blast of icy air. Sam and Chuck quickly followed him. "It's… cold," Dean said, surprised to see his breath as he spoke.

"Good observation, Dean," Sam answered. "This why you call yourself the 'smarter brother?'"

"No, dumbass, think about it: it's late spring, and the temperature can't be above thirty. Something's wrong." Sam narrowed his eyes.

"And all of a sudden you're an expert on Ohio's weather patterns?" Dean shot him a glare.

"Dad and I did a job here a while back at around the same time – the temperature should be in the mid 70s and 80s."

"Dean is right," Chuck supplied, "this _is_ really weird." Apparently, they weren't the only ones who thought so. Several of Chuck's neighbors began trickling out of their houses; some were pointing up at the sky, while others rubbed their arms, frowning.

"Maybe we should call Bobby," Sam suggested.

"And tell him what?" Dean demanded, indicating the cold temperature, and gesturing towards the red sky that was now tinged with green. "That Christmas has come early in Ohio?" Before Sam could reply, a loud whining noise sounded from one of the telephone wires on the street, and abruptly, the transformer box nearest to them exploded in a shower of sparks.

"What the –" Sam started, but he didn't get to finish, because at that precise moment, more high-pitched whining noises pierced the air, and one by one, the remainder of the transformer boxes on the street blew out. Dean caught Sam's eye and they both tensed up. Some of the neighbors were talking frantically, and one whipped out his cell phone.

"There's no service!" The man exclaimed angrily. Dean quickly withdrew his own phone from his pocket, and true to the man's words, his phone read 'no service.'

"Wonderful," he muttered. There was a familiar sound of flapping wing beats, and suddenly, Castiel was standing beside them. Dean turned around, noting that the angel appeared more haggard than usual. "You do this?" Dean asked him, jabbing a thumb at the smoking transformer over his shoulder. Castiel shook his head. "Then do you mind tellin' me what the Hell is up with _that_?" The older Winchester asked, pointing up at the blood-red sky.

"Hell has a great deal to do with it," Castiel answered gravely.

"What does that mean?" Sam asked. The angel took a deep breath, and Dean suddenly had the feeling that he didn't want to know what Castiel was about to say.

"Lucifer has found a vessel," Castiel said after a moment. Dean closed his eyes for a second and almost groaned – they were too late. He glanced over at Sam, and saw his own emotions mirrored on his younger brother's face. Chuck bit his lip nervously, and cleared his throat. Dean shifted his gaze back to Castiel, who was staring at the ground, his jaw clenched tightly.

"There's something else," the older Winchester stated, watching as the angel stiffened visibly. Slowly, Castiel raised his sapphire blue eyes until they were level with Dean's.

"Lucifer has declared war on Heaven."

* * *

**A/N**: Thanks to the wonderful amount of positive reviews I received on the last chapter, I was able to write all of this in my 5th period Psychology class today! Thank you to everyone that has reviewed thus far, but I must once again ask you to **please read and review** again – you have no idea how much I appreciate it. I don't know when the next chapter will be out by, because I'm starting on my world lit. essay in my IB English class. (College level English course in high school.)

Oh, and **Sefiriot**: The correlation definitely still holds firm. :D


	5. In Every cry of Every man

**Chapter 5: In Every cry of Every man**

_"In every cry of every Man,  
In every Infant's cry of fear,  
In every voice, in every ban,  
The mind-forged manacles I hear."_

_~William Blake  
_

Sam's mouth dropped open, and Chuck's face grew noticeably paler. Dean, however, looked quite expressionless.

"This is absolutely not good," Chuck muttered.

"Lucifer is attacking Heaven _again_?" Sam asked, incredulous. "But… you guys defeated him last time. So, can't you do it again?" Castiel furrowed his brow.

"Last time, the number of angels that had Fallen paled in comparison to those who were still loyal to God, and thus, were cast down to Hell." He paused. "But this time, the number of angels Lucifer has at his command, in addition to his demons, is unknown. I can only guess that we are the ones who are outnumbered."

"And?" Sam prompted, noticing that the angel looked as if he wanted to say something else. Castiel shifted his gaze towards Dean.

"I have spoken to some of my brothers and sisters, and we are in agreement that you are still the one who will defeat Lucifer," he said. The older Winchester heard a quiet gasp and glanced over at Sam. His younger brother's eyes were wide with shock, and Dean resisted the urge to turn around and punch the angel in the jaw, remembering how well that worked last time.

"Dean…?" Sam asked, his brow furrowing in confusion. "You never said–"

"Yeah, I know, Sam," Dean interrupted. "I was going to tell you, but with everything goin' on, I just never got around to it." _Thanks Cas…_ He thought to himself. Sam frowned, his expression sliding into one that Dean quickly recognized as his patented 'pissed' face.

"I thought your job was to stop the Apocalypse," he said in a carefully controlled voice. "Not _Lucifer_." The older Winchester shrugged.

"Yeah, well, it was up 'till _his_–" Dean jerked his head in Castiel's direction "–boss popped in and told me otherwise." Sam's eyes narrowed. "Look, what's the difference?" Dean asked. "Just a little bit ago, you agreed to stop Lucifer from finding his vessel–"

"Exactly," Sam interrupted. "Stop him from finding his _vessel_, not stop him like '_kill_' him!"

"How do you even kill the Devil?" Chuck asked, earning himself a frosty glare from Sam. "Good to know we're all getting along," the prophet muttered. Everyone ignored him.

"Sam," Castiel interjected, "it's Dean's destiny to stop Lucifer. That is the reason why my superiors ordered us to raise him from Hell." Dean snorted.

"Yeah, and not because you guys actually wanted to, or anything." The angel glanced at him, his expression faintly frustrated. Sam stepped closer to Castiel, who watched him with an even stare.

"I don't give a _crap_ about Dean's 'destiny,'" Sam said angrily. "What you're asking him to do _isn't possible_, never mind the fact that you won't even tell him how to stop the Devil." Despite his annoyance towards his younger brother, Dean had to admit that Sam made a good point. How was he – an average hunter – supposed to off the Big Guy Downstairs?

"You guys keep skirtin' the question about how to stop him," Dean said, his green eyes locking with the angel's sapphire blue ones. "How 'bout you be straight with me for once in your existence: you said you'd ask around, so what did you find out?" Castiel paused, his gaze flicking towards the ground.

"It is written–" The angel began, before Dean interrupted.

"Look, I've had enough of this 'it is written blah, blah, blah' crap, okay? Just tell me what the Hell I'm s'posed to do!"

"You will defeat Lucifer," Castiel answered, his voice carefully neutral. The older Winchester's eyes narrowed and he felt a spark of anger ignite within him.

"_How_?" Dean growled. "You angels are all gung-ho about me stoppin' the guy, but I haven't heard a single damn word about _how_ to do it."

"That's because we don't know," Castiel replied angrily, his patience finally snapping. "It is written that you _will _stop him, but not _how_ you are to do it." Dean was about to reply when something strange happened. The telephone poles began to hum loudly, and suddenly, white electricity lanced down the length of the wires. The streetlights popped and shattered one by one, causing the surrounding area to grow dark. There was a burst of light, bright enough to cause the Winchesters and Chuck to throw their arms over their eyes. A cold gust of wind blew past them, and the sound of powerful wing beats were heard. The light died down and Dean glanced up. In the center of the road stood a man: he wore an immaculate dark grey suit with a black tie. His hair, similar in style to Sam's, was the color of spun flax, and his skin was lightly tanned. And then Dean saw his eyes. They were like liquid gold – pupiless eyes that gleamed with an unparalleled fierceness. He heard a sharp intake of breath, and was surprised to see that it came from Castiel. If the angel had been obedient before when he was with Zachariah, it was nothing compared to what he was like now. His head was bowed, eyes lowered, hands clasped behind his back, and his shoulders were stiff. Sam glanced at Castiel, then at the angel standing in the middle of the road. As if he sensed his gaze, the angel turned his head until his eyes were locked with Sam's. The younger Winchester felt a shiver run down his spine, and suddenly, he _knew_. Knew why Castiel was acting submissive – knew who this new angel was. Knew that they were so totally screwed.

"Michael," Sam breathed, automatically taking a step back. Then he glanced at Dean, who was staring at the archangel with an expression Sam recognized all too well. He was about to whisper to his older brother, elbow him, before he said something stupid, like –

"Who the Hell are you?" Dean asked angrily.

Like that.

Michael's golden gaze flicked in the older Winchester's direction, and he began to walk slowly to where they were standing. Sam and Castiel exchanged alarmed glances, and Sam's heart skipped a beat when Chuck's front door slammed shut. Sam turned around and spotted the prophet peeking at them through his curtains. The younger Winchester grimaced, and shifted his attention back towards Michael, who had come to a stop in front of Dean. The archangel cocked his head slightly, his eyes narrowing to mere slits.

"I am Michael," he answered, his voice rough, as if he wasn't used to speaking through a vessel. _Which_, Sam thought to himself, _made a lot of sense, considering that the last time Michael popped down on Earth had been, oh, _never. He was glad to see that his brother had clamped his mouth shut upon hearing the archangel's name. Even _Dean_ knew who Michael was. "Castiel," Michael said, his voice radiating with power, "your presence is not required here, nor is it desired. Leave." Dean glanced at the smaller angel. His shoulders were hunched, and he kept his gaze glued to the ground as he answered.

"With all due respect, Michael," he said quietly, "I would prefer to remain here." Both Winchester's eyes widened in surprise, and they watched as Michael turned to face Castiel.

"You have caused more than enough trouble," the archangel answered after a moment. "It would not benefit you to disobey me now." Castiel flinched, but otherwise remained silent.

"Look, pal," Dean started, causing Sam resist the urge to close his eyes. Nothing good ever followed when his older brother started a sentence with 'look, pal…' "I know you're a badass archangel and all," Dean continued, "but since I'm assuming you came to talk to _me_, whatever you've got to say, you'll say it in front of all three of us, or not at all." Michael stared at the older Winchester, his expression unreadable. Finally, he said,

"You are needed on the battlefield. Both of you. You'll be debriefed when we arrive." Dean's brow furrowed, and he frowned.

"Arrive?" He asked. "Arrive _where_?" But Michael didn't answer, instead turning to face Castiel.

"Follow us." Was all he said. Then he stepped towards Dean and Sam and gripped them both by the shoulder. A split second later, the world was a rush of flying colors and sounds, before everything faded to black.

**

* * *

**

**A/N: **So once again, sorry for taking so long. I just wanted to be sure that I would do well on finals before working on anything else. But now that school's out, I can totally focus on this and get it done. So **please read and review**! I'd love to know what you think, and your support always makes my day! Oh, and as for why Michael himself came to take Dean and Sam to the cam--ahem, _battlefield_, there is a point to that, which will be revealed later. Just know that it has something to do with Dean.


	6. Where Ignorant Armies Clash by Night

**Chapter 6: Where Ignorant Armies Clash by Night**

_"And we are here as on a darkling plain  
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,  
Where ignorant armies clash by night."_

_~Matthew Arnold  
_

When Sam opened his eyes a split second later, he found himself sprawled out on the ground. Which was strange, because he could've sworn that he'd just been standing up just seconds ago. A hand was thrust in front of his face, and he glanced up and spotted Dean standing over him with his hand outstretched. His brother was saying something – his mouth was moving – but Sam couldn't hear him over the loud ringing noise in his ears. He shook his head to clear it, and was relieved when he was bombarded with a rush of sound.

"–forgot that this was your first time travelling with Angel Airlines," Dean was saying as he gripped the younger Winchester's hand and hauled him up. "I got a little dizzy myself when Cas brought me along, but it wears off after a few minutes." Sam blinked as he steadied himself, his mouth almost dropping open when he took in their surroundings. The rocky landscape around them was flat and lifeless –numerous great grey boulders rested on the ground, like miniature towers that casted dark shadows over the earth. But that wasn't what surprised Sam. Walking – and running – past the brothers were hundreds upon hundreds of people, varying in race, age, and size. It wasn't until one of them – a tall, dark-haired male – vanished before his eyes, that Sam discovered that these weren't normal humans.

"Where are we?" The younger Winchester asked. Dean eyed him, like he was surprised that Sam hadn't figured that out already.

"Think of it as angel headquarters," he answered, his expression sour. "It's like prison, only not as fun."

"What do you mean?" Sam's brow furrowed in confusion, and not just because he'd been informed that all the people moving about were _angels_.

"It was a one-way ticket over here, Sam," Dean replied. "We got _in _easy enough, but we sure as Hell aren't getting _out_ any time soon." Sam frowned, but upon seeing his brother's expression, wisely chose not to make a comment. Instead, he asked;

"Where's Michael? And Castiel?" He added as an afterthought. Dean snorted.

"Mikey oh-so-graciously told me to 'not move' right after we got here, and then he disappeared off to God-knows-where." Dean grimaced at his own choice of words and cleared his throat. "Uh, anyway, Cas is standing right behind you." Sam turned around at this, and found himself face to face with the angel in question.

"Oh," he said awkwardly, and hastily took a step back. Castiel barely acknowledged him, however, and it was a moment before Sam realized that the angel actually looked uncomfortable. Though his sapphire blue gaze was lowered, his eyes were flicking back and forth as the angels randomly passed by.

"What's wrong?" The younger Winchester asked, but it was Dean who answered.

"Apparently disobeying orders doesn't exactly make you the most popular angel on the block," he said, his eyes locking briefly with Castiel's. "It's only because I told Michael that I wouldn't do crap for him unless Cas could stay, that he hasn't been sent packing."

"That was unnecessary," Castiel muttered, not looking at the older Winchester. Dean waved him off.

"In a camp full of smite-happy angels that I've never met, I'd feel a little more comfortable having one that I know stay with me." The angel didn't answer, but Dean could've sworn that his expression shifted minutely at his comment.

"So, what are we supposed to do now?" Sam asked, involuntarily glancing up at the blood-red sky. The older Winchester shrugged.

"Wait for Michael, I guess." He answered, sounding wholly uninterested.

"And he's going to come back… _when_, exactly?"

"Don't know. From the looks of things, we've got some down time before he pops back in." Dean shoved his hands in his pockets, moving out of the way as a group of angels, all gripping gleaming silver knives, passed by.

"Tell me somethin', Cas," Dean said, his eyes still glued to the cluster of angels. "Why was Michael sent to pick up me and Sam? I thought he was Mister Important – y'know, God's right-hand man, and all that." He paused as he lowered himself to the ground and leaned back against one of the dark grey stones, scooting to the side as Sam followed his lead. "How come he couldn't just send any random angel?" Castiel shifted slightly before answering.

"You are destined to stop Lucifer. The archangels cannot afford to take risks now. Michael was sent to retrieve you because he is Heaven's fiercest warrior. In his hands, your safety would be guaranteed." The angel's sapphire blue eyes locked with the younger Winchester's. "And Sam," Castiel continued, "you and your brother are inseparable. It would not have been wise for Michael to leave you behind." Dean snorted.

"Guess they're finally learning," he said. "Anyway, what do we do now?" The older Winchester wasn't exactly sure when he started to think of him, Sam, and Castiel as 'we' and the rest of the angels as 'they.' It was fitting, though, because Cas had been willing to die at the hands of an archangel in order to give Dean time to stop his younger brother from breaking the final seal. Even though it didn't do any good, he figured that at the very least, the angel was now officially a part of Team Winchester. Sacrifice _was_ the Winchester way, after all.

"We wait," Castiel answered. Dean rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, I got that, genius. I meant about stopping Lucifer. So what, now that I'm at Angel H.Q. I'm going to magically gain the knowledge of how to stop him?"

"I don't know," the angel said, causing Dean scowl.

"Of course not. That would make things too easy. Can't have that, now, can we?" The older Winchester said sarcastically. When he received no answer, he sighed, and turned to face Sam. "How are you feeling?" Dean asked quietly, shooting a glance at Castiel, and was relieved to see that the angel had his back to them. Sam frowned in confusion.

"Uh… fine?"

"No hallucinations, no headaches?" Dean clarified, causing the younger Winchester's mouth to open slightly in understanding.

"No," Sam answered, "I feel perfectly fine. A little tired, but that's only because we've had all of three hours of sleep since leaving Bobby's." Now it was Dean's turn to frown.

"Why is that?" He inquired, ignoring the sleep comment. "It's been a few days since the Convent. When we were in Bobby's panic room, it took you all of a few _hours_ to crack." Sam grimaced at the memory.

"I don't know, Dean," he replied. "I've been feeling… different lately." Dean shifted against the uncomfortable rocks.

"Different how?" The younger Winchester took a deep breath, as if he was afraid of answering. Finally, he said,

"I feel _stronger_." Dean's eyes narrowed. "It's like I've been on some sort of 'high,' ever since I killed Lilith," Sam continued. "I don't even think I need the demon blood anymore." Before Dean could open his mouth to reply, Castiel said sharply,

"Dean!" A split second later, loud wing beats signaled the arrival of Michael. Dean quickly stood up, as did Sam. He turned to face the archangel, noting that Michael wasn't alone. Standing next to him was, he assumed, another angel. This one's vessel was equally as tall, had dark red hair, and emerald-colored eyes. Dean was surprised to see that the vessel was a woman. _A very _hot_ woman_, the older Winchester thought to himself, almost flinching when her eyes flew to his face and locked with his own. _Damn_, Dean thought, _can angels read minds_? When the angel's emerald eyes narrowed, Dean figured he got his answer. His gazed snapped to Michael as the archangel stepped forward.

"This is Gabriel," Michael announced, his tone flat.

"I'm Dean," the older Winchester said, grinning slightly. He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, as Michael's brow furrowed and Gabriel's eyes gleamed angrily. Dean decided that he really needed a filtering system.

"Are you seriously hitting on an _angel_?" Sam hissed in his ear, which didn't help him in the slightest. Dean backed up slightly, as if that would help him escape both archangels' frosty glares, almost running into Castiel in the process. He hadn't realized that the angel had been standing so close. He shot Castiel an apologetic glance – which came out as more of a grimace – and cleared his throat.

"So, uh, what's the deal? You guys finally gonna' tell us what's going on?" He asked.

"Yes," Michael answered without hesitation. Dean and Sam exchanged surprised looks.

"Really?" The older Winchester asked. "No strings attached, no more of the 'mysterious hinting' crap?"

"My brothers and sisters are fighting mass congregations of demons and the Fallen as we speak," Michael said, ignoring Dean's question, "in a state not far from here."

"What state?" Dean asked.

"Illinois," the archangel answered. He paused briefly, then continued. "In moments, the warriors in this encampment will join them." Dean frowned.

"Okay, but what does that have to do with us?" It was Gabriel who answered this time. She took a small step forward before speaking.

"Lucifer has not yet appeared on the battlefield," she replied, her voice hard. "We know that he has taken an interest in both Winchesters, you in particular, Dean. We believe that if you were to set foot on the battlefield, Lucifer himself would join the fray." Dean raised his eyebrows.

"So you want us to follow you to your little warzone just so we can _lure_ Lucifer out? Then what? You'll kill him?" He asked incredulously. Both archangels nodded simultaneously. "But… I thought I was supposed to be the one to quote unquote, 'stop him.' What happened to that?" Dean asked, his brow furrowing.

"The prophecy is open to interpretation," said Gabriel. "You will still play your part in stopping Lucifer–"

"What, as bait?" The older Winchester interrupted. Gabriel locked eyes with him, her eyes narrowing.

"You will not fight him," she replied firmly.

"That task falls to me alone," Michael added, his tone leaving no room for argument. Dean shook his head tiredly and turned to look at Sam, who was standing next to him. His younger brother shrugged, but made no comment. A quick glance towards Castiel told Dean that he wouldn't be getting any input from the angel either.

"Look, I… I don't know," he answered finally. "Just give me a little bit to think it over, okay?" Michael eyed him for a few seconds, before saying;

"Very well. But know this: Lucifer has chosen to wage war on your realm. If he wins, your world will burn until there is nothing left but ash. And for every moment spent standing around, an innocent human _will_ die." Dean's jaw tightened, and he turned his back on the archangels. A flutter of wings announced their departure. The older Winchester felt his brother shift beside him.

"What do we do, Dean?" Sam asked quietly. Dean glanced at his younger brother, then at Castiel.

"I don't know."

**

* * *

**

**A/N: **Sorry for taking so long – been very busy lately. Hopefully, the length of this chapter will (sort of) make up for the time it took to update. The next chapter won't be as long, and should be up sooner rather than later. Well, anyway, things are finally starting to heat up here! I sense some intense fight scenes coming up soon…. So, **please read and review!!** The more reviews, the faster the update!

And on a completely different note, I saw Transformers 2 last night (6/22) and it was AWESOME.


	7. Wheel in the Sky

**Chapter 7: Wheel in the Sky**

_"Wheel in the sky keeps on turning,  
I dont know where I'll be tomorrow..."_

_~Journey_

Dean Winchester was really getting tired. Not just because he hadn't slept properly since God knows when, but also because he'd had it up to _here_ with the angels ordering him around. First, it was "save the seals, stop your brother!" So, Dean, despite his misgivings about the dicks with wings, did his best to save a seal whenever he crossed paths with one. His brother, however? Yeah, he didn't exactly try that hard to get him to stop using his psychic mojo. Sure, he'd asked him to stop using it once or twice, and they had argued, but when his brother ganked Samhain last Halloween, Dean wasn't about to go tell him off. He figured that he'd rather have Sam kill that demonic asshole – not the other way around.

And then that whole fiasco with Alistair happened, and Dean was left wondering if there really _was_ a God. Sure, there were angels – Dean had seen them more times than he'd wanted. But God? That seemed a little hard to believe, especially since God was supposedly ordering the angels, who in turn, ordered Dean, to torture a demon for information. Somehow, that just seemed a little off. But he trusted Castiel – at least, he trusted his hint that Dean really didn't have a choice – went against his instincts, and did it anyway. And gee, look how well _that _turned out? Alistair had broken free and had almost killed him, if not for Castiel, and mostly Sam. As if to add insult to injury, Castiel visited Dean in the hospital, confirmed that he had broken the first seal – thus starting the apocalypse – and then proceeded to tell him that he was still supposed to "stop it," adding that the angels' fate rested with him. And that was just _great_ – like he hadn't had enough to worry about at the time.

Much later, Zachariah had popped up and essentially said, "Surprise! The seals weren't meant to be saved, and guess what? When Lucifer rises, _you_ get the honor of killing him." That was when Dean _really_ started to question just what the hell was going on.

Now, as Dean sat leaning against a jagged rock, he decided that he was just too damn tired. Too tired to care, and too tired to even argue anymore. Now the angels wanted to use him as bait to lure Lucifer out? Fine. Whatever. As long as this war ended quickly, and he and Sam could go back to hunting the things that went _bump_ in the night, then Dean would do it. As a bonus, he'd never have to deal with any more angels once this was all over, and that suited him just fine. Well, mostly fine. He glanced up at Castiel, who had been standing guard over him and Sam since Michael and Gabriel had left. The angel's back was stiff, his sapphire blue eyes alert. Cas had really come through for him when he needed it, and Dean supposed that he owed him a little of his trust, as well as his thanks. The older Winchester cleared his throat, which caused both Sam and Castiel to turn their heads so that they were staring at him. Dean was never good with all that mushy crap, so he kept it simple.

"Thanks Cas," he said, causing the angel's head to tilt in confusion. "For helping me get to Sam, and for coming with us," he clarified. Castiel's brow furrowed slightly, and maybe he would've answered, except at that precise moment, an angel appeared right next to Dean, causing him and Sam to jump.

"Son of a –" The older Winchester's broke off in mid-curse, eyes widening slightly when he recognized the angel. "Anna?" He asked incredulously.

"Hello Dean, Sam," Anna said, punctuating each of their names with a nod. She paused, before adding, "… Castiel." Castiel stared at her, his expression faintly confused. Dean cleared his throat.

"Long time no see," he said. "Why are you here?" Anna's eyes narrowed and she stared at Castiel a few moments before turning to answer Dean.

"I'm here to fight Lucifer and his army," she answered, causing Dean to frown.

"But I thought you had all of Heaven after your ass," he pointed out. Anna shook her head.

"Heaven would not deny an angel willing to fight in this war – especially not now, when the number of the Morning Star's soldiers greatly surpasses our own." It took the older Winchester a moment to figure out that she was referring to Lucifer. _Morning Star is another name for Lucifer_, Dean thought to himself. _Have to remember that. _He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. _Should've brushed up on some Bible 101 classes before jumping headfirst into all this_. "And anyway," Anna continued, pulling Dean from his thoughts, "I came to say goodbye." Both Dean and Sam's eyebrows raised in confusion. "This might be the last chance I have to speak with you." Without thinking, Dean stood up, and out of instinct, Sam mirrored his older brother's actions.

"What do you mean?" Dean demanded. "What, we aren't going to see you again? Ever?" Anna shook her head.

"You might see me again," she corrected, "but not for some time." Sam glanced sideways at his brother, noting the disappointed look on his face.

"Anna…" Castiel began softly, causing both the brothers to swivel their heads in his direction. The angel was standing off to the side with his shoulders slumped. He opened his mouth to continue. "I'm… sorry." Anna eyed him, her expression hard. Her tone was icy when she answered.

"No. Those are just empty words, Castiel. I've told you before – you don't know what it feels like to truly be sorry." Dean stared at Castiel and saw that he really did look regretful. Even Sam, who had not spent a great deal of time around the angel, recognized the emotion clear on his face. The younger Winchester figured that Anna's obvious anger was clouding her reasoning. It really didn't matter, though, because the angel turned her back on Castiel, and was once again facing the Winchesters.

"I have to go," she announced flatly. "Until next time." And before either of the brothers could answer, she disappeared in a rush of hurried wing beats.

"Yeesh!" Dean muttered, glancing sideways at Castiel. "How'd you manage to get on her bad side? Thought you two used to be BFFs." The angel let out what sounded like a sigh.

"It is a…" he paused briefly, as if searching for the correct words, "… long story, and we don't have much time as it is." Dean frowned.

"Yeah, I know – end of the world and Lucifer and his army fighting as we speak," he answered sourly. "Sam? What do you think we should do?" The younger Winchester bit his lip.

"I say we call Michael back here and agree to go along with his plan."

"Using us as bait," Dean said, and Sam nodded. The older Winchester shook his head. "You realize that this is a really _crappy _plan, right?"

"Yep," Sam answered.

"And you still want to go along with it?"

"Dean, honestly, there aren't a whole lot of other options here," Sam pointed out.

"Yeah, I know," Dean grumbled. "Fine." He turned to Castiel. "You'll come with us, right Cas?" The angel looked momentarily surprised, then nodded.

"If you wish," he answered, shifting slightly. The older Winchester heaved a big sigh.

"Tell me," he asked, "how do we get your boss back over here to–" The rest of Dean's question was drowned out in the sound of powerful wing beats. He rolled his eyes. "Never mind." Dean turned around, noting that Michael wasn't accompanied by the other archangel. "What, no Gabriel this time? Dean asked. "Real shame." The comment earned him an elbow to the ribs from Sam and a mildly horrified look from Castiel. _Filtering system_! Dean chided to himself. _Filtering system_! To his relief, Michael didn't seem to notice. Or the archangel was ignoring him. Either option suited Dean just fine.

"You have decided?" Michael asked. _No_, Dean thought sarcastically, _this was purely a social call_. Instead, he said,

"Yeah. We've decided." The archangel looked at him expectantly, his golden eyes locked with Dean's.

"And?" He asked. Dean and Sam exchanged glances, and the older Winchester took a deep breath before continuing.

"We'll do it. We'll help draw him out." Michael nodded in satisfaction.

"Excellent," he answered approvingly. "Castiel…?" He began, turning to face the smaller angel.

"I'm going with them," Castiel said almost immediately, staring Michael directly in the eyes. Both angels remained still, and had Dean not known any better, he could've sworn that they were having some sort of divine staring contest, as neither of them seemed very inclined to blink. The older Winchester cleared his throat.

"So, what now?" He asked, slightly irritated at the silent exchange between the two angels. Michael broke eye contact and turned, almost reluctantly, to face Dean. He walked up to the brothers and placed a hand on each of their shoulders, causing Dean to get the feeling that he _really _didn't like where this was going.

"Now," the archangel replied, "we leave." As the world once again became of rush of flying colors and sounds, Dean decided that he was seriously beginning to hate flying.

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**A/N: **Sorry for the long delay! I only just got back from camping yesterday, and didn't have much time to write this as I was unpacking a buttload of crap. Anyhoo… Filler chapter! Chapter 7 is the bridge to chapter eight (duh) which will, from then on, get more action-packed. Expect some deaths. (Noting too major, so don't fret.) I really don't know when I'll be able to post it, 'cause I'll be busy Saturday and Sunday, and I have to get my wisdom tooth pulled on Monday. And let me tell you, there's no way I'm getting near a computer while I'm on Tylenol 3. Haha, _bad_ idea! So, aside from that, **Please read and review! Thanks to all my previous reviewers – I love you guys!! **Oh, and if you haven't noticed, I've put up quotes on most of the chapters that correspond with the chapter title and the plot. It's going to be a regular thing from now on, just 'cause I feel like it. :)


	8. Author Note: Please read!

**On vacation - will post chapter 8 of this Supernatural fanfiction as soon as I return! **

**Please do NOT review this chapter - I'm not a complete review-a-holic, and I'm not posting this up here to gain more reviews. I just wanted to let you all know that this fanfiction will be continued, and to thank you for your patience. However, I'm not opposed to being sent private messages if you have a comment you really want to tell me, or a suggestion for my story. Oh, and know that this author's note will be removed when I'm ready to post the next chapter, so if you see another update for chapter 8 in your inbox, know that it'll be the REAL thing.**

**I leave tonight at 6:00 PST for California, and I will return on the 8th of August.**

**Thank you very much, and I hope you guys are having an enjoyable summer!**


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